


Black Forests, Red Velvet or Let Them Eat Cake

by killajokejosie



Series: To Live And Die In Holmes [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bored Sherlock, Cake, Loss of Control, M/M, Mpreg, Table Sex, Wedding Planning, mentions of Mycroft's Umbrella, sex kitten, what can John say to drive Sherlock insane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killajokejosie/pseuds/killajokejosie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that Sherlock has agreed to help plan the wedding he finds himself bored, but not so bored that he can't make the day interesting. Cake and sexy times and a lack of Mycroft. </p><p>(A stand alone? Yes)<br/>(Terrible summary? Yes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Forests, Red Velvet or Let Them Eat Cake

**Author's Note:**

> I'm American, I am bored, I don't have a beta, but I love to entertain wild ideas like this one.

Sherlock yawned. There was no thrill in trying to finalize details on a wedding that still had the 'Umbrella' Man's name all over it. Regulating the respiratory system was actually significantly less boring, truthfully.

Lately, his body had felt more like a freighter than the vessel carrying his hard drive, but experiment wise everything was going according to plan. The only thing he would have preferred was a lack of physical contact from other people. He was only four months along, barely showing, and the unwanted attention from those who knew was in full swing. It was only a matter of time before the rest of the world joined in. And, then there was John.

"What's wrong, Sherlock?" He asked the spaced out detective.

"What? Nothing. I'm fine."

"I hate to break it to you, hon, but I have known you too long to believe that," John said with his fingers tracing the outline of Sherlock's engagement ring. 

A woman brought a tray of small cake samples. This would be the fun part. Sherlock became incredibly aware that he was pregnant, almost laughing when he began incessantly salivating just from the scent. Everything from vegan carrot cake to gluten free french vanilla to a strawberry glazed mocha and all that was in between sat in front of him. He could smell them all, distinctively, despite the fact that it should have been awful. 

"Finally, something interesting. I want to try all of them."

John chuckled. "All of them? Are you sure you need to do that?"

Sherlock rubbed his slightly swollen abdomen. "I deserve this after all of the crap I have been put through today: china, table linen, floral arrangements, a venue. Cake is my reward. I'm just glad that my brother isn't here."

"Do I have any say in this ordeal? This is my wedding too, ya know?" John laughed. 

"I am pregnant with your child, I am hungry, I am for all intent and purpose the bride...shut up." Sherlock seemed so amazingly relaxed that John almost had his fight or flight adrenalin activated. 

"Wow. You going to wear a dress, too?"

"Don't be an idiot,"

"Well, what am I supposed to think? Wasn't all that long ago that you were completely against anything related to the wedding and now, by the grace of god, you are actually making decisions like it is nothing."

"That is just the thing, John, it is nothing and is just another day,"

John took a foor to the dark red cake in front of him. Sherlock had a look in his eye that resembled what the doctor had imagined he would look like if someone stole his scarf.

"Tastes good," John laughed, trying to push Sherlock's temporary weird expression to the side.

"What is it?"

"Red Velvet, I think,"

Sherlock took the fork to the red velvet. After tasting it he proceeded to take bites of every flavor on the tray. He even finished off three of the squares. Originally, John thought that meant they had limited their choices down, but he was oh so wrong. 

"Yay," Sherlock muttered, ridiculously satiated in hunger, but something else was brewing in his mind.

"Which one is it going to be, Mrs. Watson?" John purred into the detective's ear. He knew exactly what that name did to Sherlock. It pissed him off just enough to get the precious sexual tension alive. They were both fantastic button pushers and the physicality that usually followed was brilliantly, wet.

"I want them all," Sherlock said, grabbing John's shirt collar roughly. "And do not call me that again!"

John jammed a hand in between Sherlock's thighs. "Pick one, Mrs......Watson...."

Sherlock used his spellbinding strength to lift John up onto the table, despite having a weight limit restriction. He pushed him down against the leftover pieces of cake. Then he jumped up on the table with him, making sure he had his future husband controlled in between his legs.

"What did you say?" Sherlock whispered.

"Consulting detective, mother of my unborn child, annoyance to almost everyone, and now you are...the future Mrs. Watson,"

Sherlock growled. "That's it!"

In a matter of seconds John no longer had a shirt. The hungry sex kitten like drive that was fueling Sherlock was incredible. John might have been smushed against cake samples, but he didn't care once the talented tongue of his fiance found his collar bone and then more importantly, his nipples. This was significantly better than picking out flowers or trying to produce a seating chart.

The woman who had brought the tray to them returned for it. It had been a rather good thing that Mycroft had arranged for his brother to be given a private room, or more than one law would have been broken. When her eyes finally gazed upon the intimate scene she originally lingered, curious, but she did back out of the room to give them privacy.

Sherlock lifted his head up from the home he had found just beneath John's naval. "Did you hear that? Someone was in here."

John grabbed a mess of dark brown curls and pulled Sherlock to eye level. "I didn't hear a damn thing,"

The tri colored flecks in Sherlocks eyes sparkled around his dialated pupils. He was too far gone to concentrate on anything else. All of his focus went into removing John's trousers that were tight around his erection. As soon as the layers of fabric protecting him was past his knees he let out a moan, Sherlock was back to using his magnificent mouth.

John tried to help. He tore off Sherlock's clothes clumsily until just the right amount of flesh was exposed. Greedily, John yanked Sherlock down from his perched position, causing him to fall directly on top of him. Their lips clashed in lust as John reached down to manuver his throbbing shaft into Sherlock.

In a liquid movement of long arms and legs Sherlock had regained control. His right foot was now flat against John's shoulder, holding him in place. Having the control of pace allowed the detective peace of mind and when he began to rock back and forth tauntingly he knew John was puddy in his hands. The wicked look of pleasure and distorted power was just a side effect.

"Sher...Sher...you bastard," John panted, his words distracting his lover from the bunch of black forest cake balled up in his fist. 

"I told you, John," Sherlock moaned. "You are always in the middle."

John licked his lips. The burning sensation of desire and his impending orgasm grabbing him full force. He thrusted his hips upward to get deeper into Sherlock. Sherlock's eyes shot open and his head went back. John knocked the foot off of his shoulders and found resting places for both of his hands on a very pretty set of hips.

Sherlock's hand found his own hair as a scream left his lungs, calling for John to finish the job. John gave the last few necessary thrusts into Sherlock's arse to get what he wanted. The all too familiar sounds of their perfectly timed releases soon followed, causing John to breathe heavily and Sherlock to collapse under his own weight.

John noticed something and began to laugh. "Oh my, when did I do that?"

Sherlock put his hand on top of the spot in question. "You smeared cake on me?" He licked it off his fingers. "We cannot have this at our wedding."

"That I can agree with,"

"We need to put our clothes back on," Sherlock sighed.

"Really? I thought we would spend the rest of the day naked? In fact, let's have the wedding as clothing optional." John said sarcastically.

"That would be splendid, the first part, but my parents are coming by the flat later so they can tell us why we will be horrid parents, remember?"

"That's right, knew there was a reason we couldn't do it. Fuck."

The two men got dressed. Sherlock did his best job of cleaning the cake off of John, but to no avail. The woman at the front counter gave them a most intriguing look. Sherlock thought she seemed flushed.

"Did the two of you decide on a flavor?"

Sherlock and John both looked at each other and smiled. "Red Velvet,"

THE END?


End file.
